


Adrenaline

by aellisif



Series: Highly reactive [1]
Category: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aellisif/pseuds/aellisif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘It’s just adrenaline’—no, Takeru is actually pretty sure Chiaki is wrong, and adrenaline had <span class="u">nothing</span> to do with that reaction.</p><p>But what if adrenaline <span class="u">is</span> to blame after all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrenaline

‘It’s just adrenaline,’ were Chiaki’s words, half choked, half whispered into his ear where they lay on top of each other in the rubble after the explosion.

Adrenaline. Of course.

Takeru did not have enough air in his lungs to reply and tell Chiaki how stupid this excuse was. And even if he had been able to speak, he was not sure he would have dared to, shocked as he was.

It was not every day he ended up with one of his retainers on top of him, trying to protect him from an explosion, and sporting what appeared to be a serious case of … well. A Shinkenmaru in his trousers. Or whatever polite way there was of calling this.

‘Takeru? You alright?’ Chiaki’s voice still sounded a bit choked. Takeru managed to nod. Chiaki sighed a bit. ‘Good.’

Then his body slackened, and Takeru suddenly realised that in contrast to his, Chiaki’s henshin had disappeared, and there was blood dripping down on his helmet.

The curious case of the trouser Shinkenmaru was forgotten. Takeru scrambled to get up as quickly as possible without hurting Chiaki any more, screamed for the kuroko to come and take him to safety, and raced back to join Mako, Kotoha and Ryuunosuke in the fight.

①

He hated seeing them hurt, hated seeing them risk their lives for his. But that was nothing compared to the anxiety he felt while waiting in the infirmary for them to wake up.

Chiaki’s head was wrapped in white bandages and Takeru knew there were more bandages covering his back. The kuroko had placed him on his stomach, the only part of his body not burnt by the Ayakashi’s flame attack. Chiaki had thrown himself on Takeru face-first. Now his face was drawn, even in sleep, speaking of the pain he was experiencing. And his hair, his messy bleached hair that stuck out beneath the bandages was frizzled and burnt and a lot shorter than before, and Takeru barely resisted the urge to touch it and smooth it back.

The door slid open and Mako entered. ‘How is he?’

‘Sleeping,’ Takeru said without turning around.

Mako sat down beside him. ‘You haven’t had dinner yet, Takeru.’

He moved no muscle. ‘I’m not hungry.’

Mako’s hand at his shoulder gave him a little push. ‘Go eat, Takeru. I’ll stay here with Chiaki.’

Takeru fought with himself. He did not want to leave. Not yet. Not before …

He leant forward, brought his lips to Chiaki’s ear and whispered, ‘I looked it up. You’re wrong. It’s not adrenaline, it’s nitric oxide.’

He got up, nodded at Mako and left the room.

①

Nobody was able to tell Chiaki what the book was doing beside his pillow when he opened his eyes the next day. Mako suggested Takeru might have left it there. As if.

But when Chiaki countered by saying that Takeru would never stoop down as low as keeping watch at his sickbed, Mako gave him a looong glance and told him in no uncertain terms that it had been Takeru who had stayed there from the moment they returned to the house until long into the night.

But while Ryuunosuke, Mako, Kotoha and even Genta popped by during the next days whenever they had a free minute, Takeru did not show up again.

The book was his, though. No one but Takeru could have left a book on biology at his bedside, with a bookmark on the page that dealt with male reproductive organs, and the words “nitric oxide” underlined with pencil everywhere they appeared.

Chiaki snorted and pushed the book away. Trust Takeru to be a smartass about this as well!

①

‘What?’

A promising start for the conversation to follow. Takeru took a deep breath and tried to steel himself. ‘If you take one more step back, your stance will be more stable,’ he murmured, coming around to face Chiaki. He had delayed the others on purpose, hoping to finally be able to talk to Chiaki about that day two weeks back. He did not like exercising his authority over them like this, but Chiaki had been so good at avoiding him that Takeru almost felt like back in their first days together, when Chiaki would walk away once he approached him.

‘Standing stable hurts,’ Chiaki replied, swinging his practice sword. Still not looking at him. Takeru suppressed a sigh.

‘Ah.’

The only sound was the practice sword swishing through the air. Takeru fumbled for words. ‘Your hair is growing back.’

‘That’s what hair tends to do.’

God. Why did Chiaki have to make everything so complicated? Takeru stepped in front of him, determined not to be deterred. He had no idea how much time he had to get this over with. ‘Chiaki, about—about—that thing—’

The sword stopped its movements. Chiaki looked at him with a mixture between stubbornness and scorn. ‘Yes, I did my homework, tono-sama, like a good little retainer. Nitric oxide. You win, I was wrong again.’

‘Actually, you were not. I failed to check elsewhere.’ Takeru bit his lip when Chiaki’s mouth fell open. Hastily he continued, ‘The distribution of nitric oxide can be triggered by several stimuli, and adrenaline, or the reduction of it in the aftermath of a fight, may be one of them. Very simply put.’

Chiaki stared at him.

Takeru forced himself to hold his gaze.

‘So what are you trying to tell me?’ Chiaki finally asked. Takeru took a deep breath.

‘I am not blaming you for it.’

He had not expected Chiaki to explode in his face at this.

‘You’re not blaming me for it? You’re not blaming me for it⁈ God, Takeru, what are you, so perfect you never get a hard-on for no reason?’

Takeru took a step back, taken by surprise, embarrassed at his phrasing, and generally at a loss what to do.

‘No!’ he insisted, ‘That’s not what I’m—’

‘Takeru, you know what?’ Chiaki was so close now, glaring up at Takeru. ‘I don’t fucking care about you blaming or not blaming me for having a hard-on during a fight, or during training, or at any other time. Ever heard of uncontrolled biological reactions in male human teenagers? FYI, that’s what I am, so if you’re embarrassed about it, go pretend it never happens to you, but leave the rest of us alone!’

During training?

At what other times?

‘At night,’ Takeru heard himself say, and swallowed hard, averting his eyes. ‘And—and sometimes when I’m sitting on my seat.’

He could not believe that had just slipped out.

Neither could, judging by his expression, Chiaki. ‘… what?’

‘I do get … hard-ons,’ Takeru repeated, cheeks burning. ‘I just—don’t usually fling myself at one of you when I do.’

There was stunned silence, then Chiaki snorted. Takeru hazarded a glance. Chiaki was snickering. ‘On your seat? Are you serious?’

Takeru nodded, praying that the others would not walk out right now.

‘Alright, so who is it? Mako or Kotoha? Oh, is it Ryuunosuke? Please don’t tell me it’s Ryuunosuke!’ Chiaki was laughing outright now, eyes sparkling. Takeru willed himself to stay calm.

‘It’s you.’

The laughter stopped abruptly.

‘Me?’

Chiaki’s face had turned serious again. Very, very serious. Takeru gave one single nod, directing his gaze towards the ground.

‘You do know I didn’t fling myself at you because I wanted you to do something about it, do you?’

‘Of course,’ Takeru mumbled. ‘You were protecting me.’

Chiaki opened his mouth to say something, and of course that was when Ryuunosuke dashed out of the house, apologising loudly for the delay, and Takeru whirled around to him, lord mask falling into place.

Chiaki avoided him once more during the training session, and Takeru was heartily grateful for that.

①

Really, it was Mako’s glances that told Takeru something was up. He had been concentrating on his food, trying to look at his retainers as little as possible, but the scandalised looks she was directing at Chiaki were hard to ignore. Even less when she hissed ‘Chiaki!’ in a quite displeased manner.

Takeru followed her line of sight and made it in time to see Chiaki smiling around the spoon in his mouth, delight written all over his face. 

‘What’s the matter, Nee-san?’

‘Chiaki, eat properly!’ Mako admonished and Chiaki shrugged, sliding the spoon out of his mouth, licking his lips once it was outside.

‘The kuroko really did a good job today. I love chocolate mousse.’

‘Indeed, they have outdone themselves,’ Ryuunosuke pronounced pompously, too focused on his own dessert to register what Mako was taking offence at. Kotoha gave a nervous giggle, glancing between Mako and Chiaki, and quickly put her own spoon back in her mouth.

Takeru’s eyes followed the course of Chiaki’s spoon as if mesmerised when he scooped up more chocolate mousse, popped the spoon in his mouth and closed his eyes in bliss.

Then he looked up, met Takeru’s gaze and grinned. ‘What’s the matter, Takeru, you don’t like yours? I’ll eat it for you, no problem.’

He made to stand and Mako flung herself forward, catching him. ‘Don’t you dare steal Takeru’s dessert!’ she cried. ‘And stop doing that!’

‘What?’ Chiaki defended himself, laughing. ‘I’m just eating, Nee-san!’

‘You’re not, and you know it! Stop it, Chiaki!’

Takeru used the momentary disctraction to his advantage, stood and quickly disappeared into his room.

“Aroused” did not do justice to the state he was in now.

①

When he returned, the kuroko were already cleaning away the dishes and the others had left.

Except for Chiaki, who was sitting on one of the mats with his DS. He looked up at Takeru’s entrance and grinned. ‘Mako’s taken Kotoha and gone out,’ he informed him. ‘And Ryuu’s practising kabuki.’

Takeru could not bring himself to go to his seat and sit down again. ‘Ah.’

Chiaki raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. ‘Takeru, you look a bit frazzled.’

‘Ah.’

The DS was put aside. Takeru followed with his eyes as Chiaki made his way across the room, coming to stand in front of him and grinning up at him. He was not touching him. ‘You were gone really quickly just now. Stomach aches again? It wasn’t even Nee-san’s food tonight.’

One of these days, he was going to cut out Chiaki’s tongue.

Takeru shook his head, unable to speak. Chiaki glanced over his shoulder. The last kuroko was just disappearing with the remains of Takeru’s dessert. Chiaki sighed. ‘Shame. That chocolate mousse was really good. However …’ The sparkle in his eyes increased. ‘I think we still have a conversation to finish.’

Takeru took a step back. Chiaki followed. Takeru took another step.

Chiaki closed the door behind himself, cast a quick glance around and commented, ‘Nice.’

Without any further warning, he sank to his knees, hands pushing the seam of Takeru’s shirt out of the way.

Takeru almost jumped out of his skin. ‘What are you doing?’ he yelped. Chiaki blinked up at him.

‘You have a little problem there, Takeru,’ he pointed out, nudging the “problem” with his nose, which sent a thrill down Takeru’s spine. ‘Let me help you out.’

‘But—’, Takeru floundered. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Not like this. Not between the two of them. He was lord, Chiaki was retainer, and what had he been thinking, bringing the stupid topic up today?

‘Takeru.’ Chiaki’s hands let go of him, and Takeru stumbled back one more step. Chiaki got up slowly, locking gazes with him. ‘Is this what you want, or is it not?’

Takeru stared at him. Chiaki continued, ‘Because if it is, I’m going to tell you that that was not the first time I got a hard-on watching you fight. Or train. Or even read a book. And that if it hadn’t been for that stupid Ayakashi setting me on fire, I might just have asked you to do something about it.’

‘Oh,’ was all Takeru could say. Chiaki sighed.

‘Alright. I’ll go, then.’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ Takeru repeated, growing more confident as he moved towards Chiaki and extended a hand. It landed on Chiaki’s hip. Takeru hooked his finger in the belt loop and used it to pull Chiaki towards him. Not that Chiaki was resisting much. Not at all, in fact. ‘No.’

Then Chiaki was close enough for Takeru to dip his head and kiss him, and when arms wound around his neck, Takeru let go of the belt loop, put his arms firmly around Chiaki’s waist and devoted his concentration to exploring his vassal’s mouth.

①

‘Chiaki.’

‘Huh?’

Takeru buried his nose in the—still too short—messy hair, breathing in Chiaki’s scent. ‘Is that your idea of having a proper conversation about important issues?’

Chiaki snickered. ‘It makes things more interesting.’

Takeru sighed, pulling Chiaki closer to him. A leg tangled with his, and he willingly made way for it to slip in between his own. ‘I do hope you are not planning to … spice future strategy meetings up by introducing this kind of conversation to them.’

Chiaki laughed at that, turning his head to press a kiss to Takeru’s lips. ‘Don’t worry, Takeru—strategy talk doesn’t tend to get my adrenaline level up.’

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta :-)


End file.
